It starts with the House.
If you’re unhappy with the way things have gone in the last few months — or pretty certain they’re about to go south in the coming ones — come sit by me. Here’s a website that allows you to find your nearest swing district. For example, my closest district is New York’s 3rd, where the Democrat only just won his last election. Now, if after I’ve done a little research, I can choose to help Tom Suozzi however I see possible.
So I went to the Women’s March on Washington, what turned out to be a half-million strong band of like-minded folks who came from all over to put the new president on notice. We’re watching. If you’ll notice the one sign, “Get Up and Walk,” that’s quoting Jesus.
We had about a two-mile walk from RFK Stadium to the actual march at the Capitol Mall, and along the way, we were greeted by townsfolk cheering us on. If you’ll notice, the older woman in the purple shirt is holding aloft her walker. It was awesome.
Some of the best political commentary came from the protest signs. I liked the one above, but the California carrying a string of small plastic hands spoke volumes to me, too.
In all, it was a long-ass day and so worth the effort. Did you march? Where? Do you want to share pictures? Everyone I walked with on Saturday knew this was the big party before the real work. We march. And then we organize. And then? We Make America Great, Period.
...I and umpteen men, women and children on 80 buses will leave Connecticut for the trip south to the Women’s March on Washington. We leave at 1:30 a.m. Saturday, arrive in D.C. around 7 a.m., make our ways to the march, and proceed to be very loud. Oh, and we’ll take copious pictures.
This is what democracy looks like.
We board our buses to come home around 7 p.m., arriving back in Connecticut around 12:30 a.m. Sunday.
But rest assured. Things only starts with the March.
Leftover sends this, a comprehensive look at Mr. Trump’s 10 most troubling business deals with foreign power-players.
This cannot stand. And welcome to Washington, Mr. Trump.
We are, instead, simply regrouping. If you need inspiration, just play this, loud.
Onward. The way may be steep but we are not tired.
Yesterday, the Trump transition team suggested some $10.5 trillion in budget cuts, including (but not limited to, according to the National Priorities Project):
- National Endowment for the Arts
- National Endowment for the Humanities
- Office of Energy Efficiency and Renewable Energy
- Office of Fossil Energy…
…as well as cuts to the Departments of Energy, State, Justice, Transportation, Commerce, and more.
But not to worry, The military budget will see quite a boost.
Tomorrow, Donald J. Trump takes the oath of office as our 45th president. He will swear (or affirm) that he:
“will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”
I, on the other hand, am skipping the inauguration (though I’ll listen on radio), and I will take my own oath.
I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully make sure that my new president executes the duties of his office ethically, legally, and with malice toward none. I will also do my best to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States, and I will execute my job as a journalist without fear or favor, and I will do my best to teach my students to think critically, to fear nothing, and to enter the profession that has served me so well with the ability to think critically, recognize facts, and draw their pen/swords, when necessary — also without fear or favor.
So help me God.
TrollBusters has some answers. If that’s as impossible to read on your screen as it is on mine, go here.
…I stumbled across Exodus 5, where the Israelites were required, as slaves to the Egyptians, to make bricks without straw.
This was at a time when the Israelites, led by Moses and Aaron, had had it with Pharaoh’s heart, which seemed to harden at the slightest of provocation. (I mean, seriously: If someone turned water into blood, I’d capitulate, right there. It would not take a swarm of locusts and certainly not the death of babies to get me to let the Israelites go, but that’s just me talking.)
(But seriously: I’m Pharaoh! I can capture just about any one to do my dirty work, amirite?)
But back to the story, that phrase, “bricks without straw,” stuck in my head. The Israelites were being asked to do something without the proper resources. Bricks need straw, and the Israelites were doomed to fail.
In the story in Exodus, of course, they faced travails so God could show God’s power.
So we are entering a time that, to me, feels like Bizarro World. Our leader is someone I can barely stomach, and the good work that was promoted by the previous administration looks like it could be disappeared by a few strokes of a pen. We are now entering a time when we will build bricks without straw.
But I promise: We will build them. This is not the time for despair. This is time for some creative building. Onward.